Black ink drawing of a feather design, with geometric linework on the upper half and dotwork shading that darkens to solid black at the base.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Geometric feather design

Geometric · Black and grey · Flash

The drawing shows a single feather with its quill running down to a point. The upper section is built from thin intersecting straight lines forming irregular triangles and polygons, while the lower vane is filled with stippled dots that grow denser towards the base. The design is rendered in black on a plain white background with no colour and no body part visible.

Geometric Dotwork Feather Geometric shape Triangle Dot

Find an artist for this

Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The frost came down the byre window three nights running, and Nan Corrie wiped it with her sleeve every morning so she could see the goose. It had come in off the top field in December with one wing folded wrong. Her father said a wing like that would never lift again, so she called it Tallow and fed it crusts from the pantry.

Keep reading

Tallow stayed in the straw by the stove while the snow lay on the Nethergate and the ewes grew thin. Each dawn the frost crept across the glass in lines that ran at slant angles and met in small hard triangles, and she traced them with one fingertip while the goose watched her. Low down, where the glass met the sill, the frost came thick and grainy as pepper, dense at the bottom and thinning towards the top.

When the thaw came in March the lines softened and ran down the pane like rain, and one grey afternoon the goose walked out of the yard and did not look back. Her father swept the barn and found nothing left but a single quill, which he threw on the midden.

Nan fished it out and pressed it flat between the pages of the almanac. That night the last hard frost returned and drew the same shape on the glass: angled lines above, a dust of dots below, the quill running down to nothing. She did not wipe it away. By morning the sun had taken it, but she knew where to look.